“I’m not going down to the clubs,” he maintained.
“You’ve got to go, John, and the sooner the better.”
“I tell you I won’t!”
“You prefer to skulk here?”
“If it hadn’t been for your unreasonable folly about that wretched footman——” he began.
“I’m not going to be seen with footmen that don’t match for you or anybody. You’ll be expecting me next to wear odd gloves or shoes or stockings.”
The Duke was relieved from trying for a reply to this unanswerable argument by a knock at the door.
“Mr. Playford is in the blue drawing-room, your Grace.”
The Duke glanced rather helplessly at his wife.
“Show Mr. Playford here,” she said to the man, with decision. “Now we shall hear something of what is being said in the world outside, which you haven’t the pluck to face. Aubrey Playford knows everything.”